An enchanted evening with the Latin-pop superstars, and the ladies who adore them

And then he is gone, and we are back in Romeo's hands—quite literally, in the case of one young lady plucked from the crowd. ("He always gets a fat girl!" exclaims my new Spanish-speaking friend.) "This is about to get nasty," the singer warns, and verily does it get briefly nasty, the two new lovebirds gyrating horizontally—one last burst of pure, lusty mayhem. Soon, though, to commemorate the song in question ("Un Beso"), they share a more chaste and romantic kiss. "Turn it around!" Romeo commands. "Turn it!" (Referring to the stage.) And soon, as a grand finale, a narrow platform lifts him up 15 feet or so, where he perches, in a spiffy lavender blazer, pulling back a bow with no arrow in it. At this point, the arrow is really unnecessary.